I arrived at Devasom Khao Lak, convinced I wasn’t “a wellness person”.
I have never in my life loved a shot of wheatgrass, journalled about my inner child, and said things like “holding space” without irony. However, I was on the quest to get in touch with my best self through some sun, sand, and maybe a massage strong enough to undo my entire personality.
Not sure if the blame lies with losing myself amongst the sunsets of the aptly named “Sunset Beach” along which the property lies. Or, the charming locals who will quickly reassure you “mai bpen rai” (not to worry about it), but within 48 hours, I’d done six wellness experiences, rang a ceremonial gong like I meant it, and briefly considered whether my chakras were… blocked.
Wellness … With a side of aesthetics
Set along a quiet stretch of Thailand’s Andaman coast, Devasom is all soft terracotta architecture, reflective water, and the kind of silence that makes you lower your voice instinctively.
The name – “Deva” meaning angels, “Ashram” meaning residence – sounds like it should come with incense and instructions for enlightenment. Instead, you’re welcomed with a gong and a butterfly pea tea that changes colour like it’s trying to prove a point about transformation.
Fair enough. I was already halfway converted.
Day One: Breakfast, Boats and Becoming “That Person”
I start at Takola Thai, the resort’s breakfast spot that feels like it’s been designed for people who begin the day an educational podcast instead of an Instagram reel about singing cats. The setting is lush and cinematic – layered greenery, still water, soft light doing that golden-hour thing. Even at 8am.
And, the food is equally excellent. Fresh tropical fruit, local produce, sustainable protein in traditional Thai dishes (plus, a couple of pastries if you’re not quite ready to quit your usual stance on carbs). I tried to remain detached, but it’s hard to be cynical when your latte arrives precisely how you like it without you having to explain yourself.
From there, I attempt kayaking.
I say “attempt” because I went in expecting sport. What I got was floating therapy with paddles. The lagoon winds through the property like it’s avoiding drama, flanked by dense greenery that feels mildly judgmental of any speed above “meandering”.
For a clumsy girl who has been declared “spatially unaware”, I truly felt like I was gliding. The world shrinks. Your thoughts get quieter, not because you’ve achieved enlightenment, but because there’s genuinely nothing else to do. I lasted about ten minutes before forgetting I was meant to be doing anything other than existing.
Which, I suspect, was the point.
Then comes the main event: the Aqua Sound Bath Therapy.
If you’ve never floated in warm water while someone plays Himalayan singing bowls at your nervous system, imagine lying in a spa pool while your internal monologue is gently uninstalled.
It’s equal parts serene and slightly ridiculous. Gongs ripple through the water, sound becomes physical, and at some point, I stopped being entirely sure where my body ended and the “healing vibrations” began. I kept expecting to feel deeply transformed. Instead, I mostly felt… very relaxed and mildly amused that this is what “inner peace” now looks like.
Still. Ten out of ten. Would float again.
Day Two: Stretching, Silence and Surrender
The next morning begins with yoga, where I immediately learn that my hamstrings have been emotionally unavailable for years.
The instructor speaks softly. The birds are doing their thing. Everyone else looks spiritually aligned. I look like I am negotiating with gravity. Still, there’s something disarming about moving slowly in a place that refuses urgency. Even my scepticism starts to stretch a little.
From there, I move into one of Devasom’s seasonal offerings. Options during my stay – which coincided with their Eastern Philosophy Week – included Tai Chi by the Sea, Mindfulness for beginners session or Presence in Petals , AKA the art of Ikebena, or Japanese floral arrangements
I opted for the latter and went in thinking: how hard can flowers be?
Answer: harder than expected, if you take it seriously.
The idea is simple – it’s not about the flowers, it’s about the space between them. Which is a very elegant way of saying “you are now being asked to meditate using foliage”.
At first I try to arrange things neatly, like a Type A personality with stems. Eventually, I give up and accept that imperfection is, apparently, the entire philosophy. I leave with something that looks vaguely intentional and a new respect for empty space.
Or at least, the concept of it.
Finally, did you even go to Thailand if you didn’t get a massage? The “Journey to the East” massage calls my name. And at exactly at 4.45pm, with the scent of coconut lingering in the air, that all remaining scepticism about my status as a “wellness person” quietly packs its bags and leaves.
This is not a gentle spa treatment. It’s a conversation between pressure points and deep tissue logic, drenched in aromatherapy oil.
For the overachievers, there’s also an “Ultimate Detox Day” option – a full itinerary of movement, hydrotherapy and treatments designed to turn you into a hydrated version of yourself. I consider it briefly, then decide I’ve already achieved enough spiritual credit for one trip.
By the time I leave Devasom Khao Lak, nothing dramatic has happened. I haven’t “found myself” or unlocked a higher frequency or whatever the brochure adjacent language suggests.
But I have floated in a sound bath, kayaked through a jungle-like lagoon, arranged flowers like they were a philosophical exercise, and stopped checking my phone for long stretches without panicking.
Which, in today’s economy of attention and exhaustion, feels suspiciously like wellness actually worked. Or at least… I’ve become the kind of person who won’t immediately roll their eyes at it anymore.
